


Flaws Upon Your Sleeve

by downtownfishies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Falling In Love, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-24
Updated: 2018-03-03
Packaged: 2019-03-23 06:10:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13781397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/downtownfishies/pseuds/downtownfishies
Summary: First Akaashi fell hard for volleyball, which was fine.  Then he made the questionable decision of falling for his team's ace.





	1. Akaashi

"I'm not doing it today," says Hata, Fukurodani's captain and regular setter. Akaashi sees him shoot a glare at Bokuto and the first years chasing each other around the gym. Their warmup stretches seem to have devolved into a game of tag somehow. "I've had it with his nonsense, Nonaka, it's your turn with him."

Nonaka, the reserve setter, makes a face. "I can't deal with him any better than you can," he says. "Hey—" he turns to look at Akaashi "—why don't you practice with Bokuto today, Akaashi-kun? He actually likes you."

This is news to Akaashi. As far as he can tell, the only people Bokuto can get along with on this team are the ones who are as high-strung as he is. Across the gym, Komi drops into a roll to dodge Bokuto, then jumps up and sprints away, laughing.

"All of you, quit messing around!" Hata calls. Bokuto runs over with a volleyball, looking very much like a large puppy eager to play. "You're with Akaashi on court C today," Hata informs him curtly. Bokuto takes it in stride and trots off to the other court. Akaashi figures he's probably happy as long as he gets to spike, no matter who he's practicing with.

It's not the first time Akaashi has tossed for Bokuto— it's the second. Apparently hitting a volleyball around outside without a net one time several weeks ago made a favorable impression with Bokuto? Bokuto passes him the ball, and they begin. It's a lot like last time, with Bokuto spiking consistently and enthusiastically for as long as he's allowed to. Akaashi finds himself wondering what the team could accomplish if Bokuto could perform like this in a real match— good form, smooth motions, intimidating power. Akaashi varies the timing, the height, the angle of the toss, and Bokuto hits all of them, always at an angle to avoid imaginary oncoming blockers.

But on the court at Interhigh, the tension seemed to wear Bokuto down. As the strongest spiker, he ought to be the team's ace, but can that title apply to someone who never stays on the court for a full match?

"I don't know if he actually likes volleyball all that much," Nonaka commented to Akaashi once. Watching him now, in top condition, it's hard to believe, but this is the same guy who skips half his practices and spends most of the rest of the time goofing off.

_If he doesn't actually like volleyball, what is he doing here?_

Akaashi would never admit to anyone that he used last year's spring tournament as research to decide which high school to attend— _volleyball isn't a real career_ , his mother has told him more than once— but Fukurodani has a good academic reputation and a strong volleyball tradition, which pretty much covers Akaashi's priorities. He fell in— well, _love_ is probably too strong a word, but he fell in _like_ with volleyball in junior high, with the mental challenge of being a setter, with the feeling of belonging somewhere. Making friends isn't his strong suit, but teammates he can just about manage.

If Bokuto, with all his talent, is just playing volleyball for the hell of it... well, that would be annoying, but Akaashi supposes not everyone is going to have passion in equal measure with their skill level.

But passion seems like the only word for it, when Bokuto is doing yet another victory dance for yet another successful spike.

"Yes! Keep 'em coming, Akaashi!"

"Line up!"

Bokuto's shoulders droop at the sound of the captain's voice.

"Next time, then, Bokuto-san," Akaashi said, and Bokuto's face switches back to its full-wattage smile.

 

Akaashi has, without quite meaning to, been keeping count, so when Hata thanks him for "putting up with Bokuto so well", Akaashi knows it's because this is the most consecutive practices Bokuto has attended all year.

"You're a more patient man than I," Hata adds.

"Thanks..." Akaashi hesitates, then continues. "We're not really accomplishing much, though, are we? I mean, it's good practice for me, but Bokuto-san's spike can't really grow like this."

Hata's expression shows he doubts a spike like Bokuto's has much growing left to do, but aloud he says, "You can try it with a couple blockers if you like, but you should know, his attitude takes a nosedive when he runs into any difficulties."

Akaashi does know, but unlike the upperclassmen, he's not sure Bokuto's poor attitude is an inevitability. "An ace sometimes is better than an ace none of the time" is the advice Coach gives to keep the third years from losing patience with Bokuto, but who's to say they can't have an ace all the time?

Well, Bokuto, mostly. They've borrowed one of the first years, a middle blocker who matches Bokuto for height, and it doesn't take him long to get the hang of Bokuto's cross. It's all a matter of timing, and then all the force of Bokuto's not-insignificant muscles can't break through.

Bokuto's head droops. "This is pointless... Sorry for wasting your time, Akaashi, Ichikawa. I'll just go..." He slinks off the court towards the door, leaving his kouhai speechless.

 _This is the point where Hata would start yelling at him_ , Akaashi thinks. _I don't even know what I'd say._

"Sorry, Akaashi," Ichikawa exclaims.

"It's not your fault," Akaashi tells him. "You did your job. We'd better rejoin the main practice."

After two days' absence Bokuto shows up to practice again, but it's evident that he'd rather be elsewhere, especially when Akaashi invites another middle blocker to work with them. The cycle keeps repeating itself, and Akaashi can see why Hata and Nonaka were so eager to pass Bokuto off to the newbie setter.

Akaashi isn't looking to ditch Bokuto, though. There has to be something he can do, but he knows it means having an actual conversation with Bokuto.

Just talking to him isn't hard. Bokuto chatters about classwork and what he had for lunch during breaks in practice, but he dodges Akaashi's volleyball-related questions and comments.

"Bokuto-san, if there's any particular style of toss you'd prefer, please let me know."

"Huh? Whatever's fine, just keep 'em coming."

He tries again. "If there's a type that's easier for you to hit, it might not get blocked so easily." Akaashi thinks this must be common sense, but that sort of thing isn't Bokuto's strong suit.

Bokuto considers this. "I haven't really noticed. I can pretty much hit all of them, so..."

"Will you at least think about it?"

Bokuto nods. "OK. Next?"

"Bokuto-san—"

"One more and I promise I'll think _really hard_ about if I want you to change anything. Please?"

Akaashi sighs and tosses the ball. They don't have a blocker today, so Bokuto's spike sails over the net and strikes the opposite side of the court with ease. Akaashi watches it and then looks back at Bokuto to see his face screwed up in concentration. _Think really hard,_ indeed.

"A little higher? I can jump pretty high, so."

"Got it." He ducks under the net to get the ball, remembering only belatedly that it's usually only Bokuto who's so eager for the next toss. But it feel like a breakthrough, even though genuine communication ought to be the foundation of the setter's relationship with a spiker, shouldn't it?

 

With the spring tournament preliminaries looming, Coach starts insisting that Bokuto practice with Hata, the setter he'll actually be playing in matches with. This goes about as well as one might expect.

"Got any advice for me?" Hata asks Akaashi.

 _Is he serious?_ Akaashi wonders. He doesn't want to be presumtuous, but... "Bokuto-san said he prefers his tosses higher and closer to the net, I think."

"Wow, you got him to admit to something like that? Thanks, I'll give it a try."

Akaashi watches them practice and tries not to let envy get him down. If he's realistic about it, he knows how rare it is for first years to get a regular position on the team, and he doesn't have some incredible talent like Bokuto does to get him there. But if he's being honest, he misses playing in matches.

A week before the first preliminary match, Akaashi is getting ready to leave the gym when he sees Bokuto hanging back, holding a volleyball, watching him.

_Right, we were drilling receives today. Bokuto-san didn't get to spike at all..._

"Akaashi, can you toss for me a couple times?"

He doesn't really mind, so... "Did you check with Shirofuku-san to make sure it's okay to stay late in the gym?"

"Uh..."

Akaashi raises his eyebrows at him.

"Shirofuku!"

With the logistics straightened out, they have the gym to themselves. Bokuto is so eager to spike, he's practically bouncing. Akaashi considers the fact that usually, Bokuto would worm his way out of receive practices, so evidently he stayed to the end so he could ask Akaashi to do this. Akaashi decides not to dwell on it.

Bokuto does his usual cross spikes. Akaashi carefully plans his words in his head, then asks, "Bokuto-san, do you ever do straight spikes?"

"No...? My cross is really good."

"But it gets blocked sometimes."

Bokuto's shoulders slump slightly, but more in irritation than real sadness. "Akaashi..." He picks himself up after a moment, and gestures for another toss. Akaashi complies, and Bokuto spikes it tightly inside, so it hits close to the front of the opposing court.

"See? I'm not totally useless at strategy."

Akaashi doesn't comment on this statement, which is almost certainly a response to criticism from Hata and Nonaka rather than being meant for Akaashi himself. He wonders if he should push the issue.

"And if that one gets blocked?"

Bokuto sighs heavily. "I don't know. Nagafusa or Mitsui or somebody can have a turn on the court then, I guess."

Akaashi can tell he's touched a nerve, and tries his best to cover. "Shall we get back to practicing?"

Bokuto stoops to get the ball. "Nah, I think that's enough for one day. I'll put this away. Thanks, Akaashi." He walks away, leaving Akaashi cursing whatever whim inspired him to invest time and emotion in such a difficult person.

 

During the spring tournament preliminaries, Akaashi watches from the bench. Their team is good, even when Bokuto is on the bench— their receives connect, their spikes get through. And Hata is a good setter. His rapport with the other third years holds the team together— the team minus Bokuto, at least. Bokuto is the only second-year regular aside from Komi, who's set apart anyway by the fact of being the libero. But the atmosphere is still better than Interhigh, like maybe they're all starting to get used to each other.

At practice the night before the final round of qualifying matches, Bokuto raises his hand during the strategy discussion. This is unusual, and everyone turns to look at him.

"Can Akaashi play in one of the matches tomorrow?"

Akaashi can feel most of the team turn to look at him instead, but he keeps staring at Bokuto. Why on earth...?

"He's worked really hard helping me to practice and improve and he's a really good setter so I think he deserves a chance to try? Maybe for part of a set at least?" All eyes are on Bokuto again and he's getting flustered. "I just, I want to play with him in a real match for once..."

Akaashi can feel his face getting hot. He didn't ask for this. With all the extra time they spend together after practice, people are going to think he asked for this and he _didn't_.

"It's going to be kind of hard for Akaashi," Hata says. "He hasn't had a lot of practice setting for the full team. But I don't mind, so I guess it's up to you." He is, for some reason, addressing Akaashi when he says this.

The worst, or maybe the best thing, is that he doesn't have it in him to lie and refuse something he desperately wants. "I... you're right that I haven't had enough practice, probably, but I'd like to try, if that's alright with everyone."

"It's fine with me," Hata says. The third years all nod or voice their agreement. The team looks to the coach.

"If that's what you guys want to do. Akaashi can start, and if it doesn't go well, we can put in Hata anytime. Now, about Itachiyama's offense..."

After the meeting, Akaashi works with the third-year spikers to get a better feel for tossing to them. He waits until after practice to confront Bokuto.

"So, were you thinking that it doesn't matter if we lose one match tomorrow, since three of the four teams will still go on to Nationals no matter what?"

"Huh? We're not gonna lose, you'll be fine."

"Oh, so you just weren't thinking at all, as usual."

"I think all the time! Wait, are you mad?"

 _Now he notices..._ "I can't just take over a position I haven't earned."

"Of course you've earned it. You put in all these extra hours dealing with me even though I'm super annoying, I wanted you to have something to show for it. Besides, I know how much you've been wanting to play in an official match."

"You're not— how did— what—" He takes a deep breath, trying to get his words in order. Bokuto has a smirk like he's so proud of himself for managing to get Akaashi flustered. It's not as if Akaashi ever spoke aloud about how much he misses playing in matches, but it's only natural for any player to feel that way; it wouldn't take a genius to figure that one out. Maybe what bothers him more is that Bokuto is more self-aware than Akaashi had realized.

"So can we practice spiking now?"

"No."

"Akaashi!"

"You shouldn't wear yourself out the night before a tournament, and neither should I. Come on, it's time to go home."

"So you're not mad at me?"

"No." It was a source of some annoyance to him, the way he never managed to stay mad at Bokuto.

"Oh, good. Can we stop for dinner somewhere on the way?"

"...I guess."

 

Akaashi sends his first toss— as the official setter in a high school tournament match— to Bokuto, naturally. Bokuto turns and double high-fives him as soon as the ball hits the opponents' court, and Akaashi attributes the swooping feeling in his stomach to adrenaline. Adrenaline does that, right?

It's more intense and faster-paced than he remembers his junior high school matches being, but he anticipated that, and he's never been one to lose his cool in a tough situation. He does his best to focus just on the essentials, making the plays connect, syncing with the spikers. His plays with Bokuto have a high success rate, but his occasional erros with the other spikers take a toll. Fukurodani is just barely holding the lead approaching the end of the first set, and the opposing team is catching onto Akaashi's strengths and weaknesses. Bokuto's spike, trying to score the set point, gets knocked down. Akaashi knows his limits. Keep playing, relying on Bokuto, and risk throwing him off his game, or switch out now, with the risk of disrupting the team's flow? The decision doesn't take long. He catches Coach's eye, and Coach calls for a member change.

As he leaves the court, he glances back at Bokuto, who is watching him with concern. Akaashi gives him what he hopes is a reassuring smile, and Bokuto smiles back, his fullest, purest, grin. Akaashi's heart stutters. But he's not worried— Bokuto's at the top of his game today, he's going to be fine.

The other reserve players on the sidelines punch his arm and ruffle his hair when he rejoins them, which he supposes is a good thing. He watches the rest of the match, considering how Hata handles things and how he can improve his own game for next time. If there is a next time. He did alright, he thinks; the team and coaches knew what they were getting when they put him in. And even with an inexperienced setter, they never lost the lead.

Bokuto scores the winning point, and they take the first game of the preliminary league two sets to none. Bokuto runs over to Akaashi, yelling, hands up for another round of high fives; his momentum carries him though all the first- and second-years in the box before he circles back around to Akaashi again.

"You were great, Akaashi! High five!"

"We already did that," he says, but raises his hands anyway. _Please calm down, Bokuto-san,_ is what he means to say next, but he finds himself wholly distracted by the closeness of Bokuto's face in the moment their hands slap together. Bokuto is gone again in an instant, dashing off to bounce around the seniors, but Akaashi is frozen, with just enough presence of mind to lower his hands. Bokuto, Bokuto's smile, Bokuto's face close enough to kiss. How long has he wanted to kiss Bokuto? Why _Bokuto?_

"Akaashi, we're going," Konoha calls to him, and Akaashi sees that most of his teammates are already halfway to the door.

 _Later,_ he thinks. _I'll deal with this later._

 

Later is him quietly excusing himself after their second match, because they lost and Bokuto looks so deflated; even though they're still going to Nationals he's clearly beating himself up over the loss and Akaashi wants to comfort him and he also wants to get as far away from Bokuto as possible so he doesn't make a fool of himself somehow. He rests his forehead against a cool metal railing upstairs from the locker rooms and wonders how he got himself into this mess.

Wasn't it enough to have made a friend? That's a rare occurrence for Akaashi in and of itself, so why did he have to go and mess it up by wanting— something else? Bokuto is nice and fun and loud and annoying and complicated and talented and— attractive— and Akaashi has been spending more and more time with him lately without ever stopping to ask himself why. Do people normally go to such effort for their friends? Akaashi hasn't had enough close friends to compare with. Does he care about Bokuto as a friend, as a teammate, or does he just think he's hot?

Deep breaths. Get it together. He's letting himself get carried away. The two aren't mutually exclusive, right? Caring about a teammate, wanting to kiss him, it's not either-or. And wanting to do something doesn't mean he has to actually do it. He can be Bokuto's friend, because, miraculously, Bokuto seems to want to be his friend, and he can keep a secret.

 

He can act like nothing has changed; he can stop himself from looking at the muscles in Bokuto's back in the locker room; he can think before he speaks and never let on that his quiet now is any different from his quiet before. But it is different. It isn't that he doesn't mind staying late practicing with Bokuto, he wants to.

He spends the weeks leading up to the spring tournament picking apart his feelings, examining them from every angle, making sure he's not mistaken. He's liked boys before, in a distant, admiring sense, and he's had friends before, most of them casual, like teammates and classmates. Wanting to be around Bokuto, to look at him, to listen to him talk, it's like that but magnified, blown up to ten, fifty times proportion, because Bokuto likes him back, in some capacity or another. It isn't just Bokuto's face (which is very nice) or his arms (which are excellent) but a sense of mutual investment in whatever relationship has grown between the two of them.

And Akaashi can never tell him, because he wouldn't risk disrupting what he has right now for anything.

 

In the second match on the first day of the spring tournament, Coach is a little worried about Bokuto's mood, so he lets Akaashi play setter from the start. Sure enough, after three spikes blocked out of four, and a missed serve, Bokuto announces— loud enough to be heard all the way in the stands, no doubt— that he is a failure as an ace, and Akaashi ought not to toss to him anymore. Akaashi allows himself a single moment to marvel at the fact that _this is the boy I've decided to have a crush on_ before turning away calmly.

"Alright," he says, "please let me know when you'd like to spike again." Months of practicing one-on-one with Bokuto have made it clear that time is the only reliable remedy for his moods. He isn't sure how Coach or Hata will feel about having a player on the court who isn't doing anything, but maybe the energy of the match will bring Bokuto around quickly. Or it will make him worse. It's hard to say for sure. But one thing he can be sure of is the opponents' reactions— no team can fail to be excited, seeing the opposing team's main scorer out of action. But they're in for a shock if they underestimate the rest of Fukurodani's power...

Akaashi has spent the past few weeks practicing with the third years, hoping for the chance to play with them again in a match, and here it is. He doesn't intend to waste it worrying about Bokuto.

 

Akaashi sets for the whole match. They win the second set with a block; it's not one of Bokuto's spikes but Bokuto is unconcerned, launching himself at Akaashi and wrapping him in a hug.

"Bokuto-san, you're all sweaty," Akaashi tries to protest, but his heart isn't in it. It feels like his ribs are getting crushed but it would be just too easy to turn his head and bury his face in Bokuto's neck...

The other guys are crowding around them now for a celebration that from the outside probably seems unwarranted this early in the competition. But the seniors are proud, Akaashi realizes, of him and of Bokuto and of how well all of them played together as a team, finally, after all this time.

Bokuto spends the post-game meeting with an arm slung around Akaashi's shoulders, which he and everyone else seem to regard as entirely unremarkable behavior. Akaashi tolerates it for as long as he has to and makes a break for it as soon as he finds an opportunity to do so, taking refuge in a stairwell near the locker rooms.

Because the universe evidently has a bizarre sense of humor, Bokuto finds him there just a short while later. He takes in the sight of Akaashi, sitting on the steps, head in his hands, and starts jumping to conclusions.

"Akaashi, are you okay? Are you feeling ill?"

"I'm fine," he says, and sits up, trying to look like it. _I'm not fine, I have no idea how to be your friend or what you want from me, or what I want from you except for things I don't know how to ask for—_

"Are you sure? You can't get sick, okay, you have to stay healthy so we can keep playing in the tournament together, everything thinks you did really well and they all want you to play more, so you can't get sick, except I mean if you are sick of course you should look after your health and not push youself. Have you been getting enough sleep—?"

"Bokuto-san. I'm not sick. I just... needed a moment to myself."

"Oh! And I've been bothing you. Sorry! I'll go. See you later!"

Akaashi stares at the empty space where Bokuto was just standing, the stairwell suddenly far too quiet, and he realizes that _Bokuto going away_ is not what he wanted from this situation. There is absolutely something wrong with him.

With a deep breath he collects himself and heads back to the now-deserted locker room. His phone blinks with a message alert.

_Bokuto: forgot to mention going to ramen with some of the team!!! message if you want to join and we'll wait up!!!!_

He spares a microsecond thinking how horribly, embarrassingly _gone_ he is, and begins typing out a reply.

 

It shouldn't astonish him, he thinks, how far they've made it in the spring tournament; he saw them play last year and he knows this is a national-level team. But after a grueling full set in the quarterfinals, he finds himself and his teammates preparing for the semifinals match. Whatever happens here, his team is one of the four best high school volleyball teams in Japan.

And he's played a role in that... but much of the credit goes to the ace, who is positively skipping through the halls of the gymnasium, babbling to Akaashi (well, to anyone who will listen, but after a while that's just Akaashi) about volleyball.

"And in the other semifinals match there's some team from Miyagi Prefecture that's supposed to have, like, a 'super-ace', whatever that means, man, I hope we get to play him...!"

 _He does like volleyball,_ Akaashi thinks, remembering what Nonaka said all those weeks ago, _or at least, he likes it on his good days._

When Bokuto smiles, his eyes light up and shine with excitement, and Akaashi can't help but smile back. It's not like him to grin like Bokuto, but he can see even his small smile reflected back at him as Bokuto's expression grows, impossibly, brighter.

Moments like that, he wonders if there's a chance in hell that his feelings aren't one-sided. But then Konoha irritably calls to them, "Are you guys gonna warm up, or what?" He didn't mean to just stand there smiling at Bokuto like an idiot, but he realizes that's what he must have been doing. Bokuto dashes off to get his hands on a volleyball. The moment passes.

 

From the sidelines, Akaashi watches Bokuto's spikes get blocked, one after another. The opposing team's blockers aren't extraordinarily tall, but one of them is quick and they're all getting a feel for Bokuto's spikes, and Akaashi can sense it weighing him down. It's throwing off the whole team.

They're Fukurodani. They don't lose, except when they do. Bokuto doesn't talk to anyone after the game. The third years are quiet, and Akaashi's thought from earlier, _we've come so far,_ is now tinged with regret instead of pride.

The third-years retire. Bokuto misses a whole week of practice, and nobody is surprised. The team's remaining members speculate quietly about who should be captain next year— Akaashi was assuming it would be Nonaka, and is surprised by his response when Akaashi brings it up.

"Shouldn't it be someone with more experience on the court?" he says mildly. If he resents Bokuto, or Akaashi for taking his place as reserve setter, he doesn't show it. Akaashi feels uncomfortable anyway.

"If Bokuto-san doesn't come back..."

"It's only been a week. That was a rough game for everyone, even us guys who weren't on the court, right?"

Bokuto doesn't show up to practice the following week, and after everyone else has already left, Akaashi is staring at the cart of volleyballs wondering if it's worth it to stay late again tonight. He's been staying after practice alone since the tournament, ostensibly to work on his serve, pretending he isn't waiting for Bokuto because that would be stupid. There's movement at the edge of his vision and he turns to see Bokuto hovering in the doorway to the gym.

"Bokuto-san? What are you doing here?"

Looking at the ceiling and the floor more than Akaashi, Bokuto says, "Nonaka said it wasn't nice to disappear for days at a time and leave my team wondering if I'm okay but I see most of the guys from my year every day so I figured he meant you and I wouldn't want you to worry so... ta-da!" he finishes weakly.

"I wasn't worried," Akaashi replies, which is only a little bit of a lie. "I figured you'd come back when you were ready."

"Well, I'm not, but..." he shrugs, and Akaashi can see that it's true. Usually when he comes back after an absence Bokuto is bursting with energy, and tonight he's scarcely less sullen than he was after they lost the match. "How are you?"

Not expecting the question, Akaashi hesitates a moment before finally answering, "I'm fine," which is slightly more accurate than the last thing he said.

He remembers Bokuto hugging him when they won in the second round and wishes he could return the favor, now, to comfort his friend. If he could be sure it would help he would try, but he doesn't know. He's always been awkward with physical affection, and his feelings for Bokuto just muddy the waters. So he falls back on words, because he knows how to use those.

"Do you want to practice?"

Bokuto shrugs, shifts his weight back and forth, makes a vaguely unhappy sound, but it's not a "no".

"Everyone's practicing so we can get better. So we can go back next year and get our revenge."

"Why don't you all hate me?" Bokuto blurted out. "I'm the worst ace ever. I couldn't score at all in the last set. The ace's job—"

"The ace's job is to be good, not perfect. when something happens, it's the rest of the team's job to support the ace and pick up the slack. You're not the only one who feels responsible for our loss."

"You weren't even playing."

"Bokuto-san, every member of the team feels like, if only I were a better player, maybe we could have won. So now everyone is working hard to reach that level. You should, too."

"I don't think there's anything I can do. When I try to imagine getting past this... I can't picture it at all."

"When I was a third year in junior high school I went to watch the spring national tournament and I saw your match, the one where you got the last point with that spike, and I thought that was maybe the coolest thing I've ever seen." Even then, he didn't want to _be_ Bokuto, he wanted to be good enough to stand by his side on the court. Was that pragmatism, recognizing their different levels and types of skills, or a sliver of attraction from the very start? Bokuto's eyes are wide and Akaashi doesn't know if he's saying something strange but he presses on. "I can't spike very well but I keep playing volleyball because there are other things I can do. If your spike isn't working, you find something else that does work. There is something, right?"

Bokuto is very still, in the way he gets when he's fully immersed in the game. After a long moment he says, "Toss for me?"

Akaashi gets a ball and Bokuto gets into position. He jumps and his form is perfect. He spikes the ball straight down the side line of the court, but it flies too far and lands out in the back.

Bokuto takes a deep breath. "Another!"

 

Coach calls Bokuto over to talk to him after practice one day, shortly before the end of the school year. Akaashi waits for him, but the conversation takes a while, both Coach and Bokuto speaking seriously, occasionally punctuated with enthusiastic gestures from Bokuto. If Akaashi had to guess, they're talking about the captaincy. There hasn't been an announcement yet, but now that Bokuto is back, and practicing more seriously than he's practiced all year, all the team members are assuming it will be him.

At long last they finish talking and Bokuto jogs over to Akaashi as Coach leaves the gym.

"Sorry about that, Akaashi!"

"It's no problem. Do you still want to practice today?"

"Yeah! Um..." he hesitates, not rushing back onto the court like he usually would.

"Bokuto-san?"

"Coach asked me to be captain. He says he talked to the other second-years and that's what they want, apparently?"

Akaashi nods, wondering if Bokuto is doubting himself, and if he is, what he could say to help.

"I told him— well, I'll tell you what I said but he said I should ask— I don't want to assume so I should probably ask first, right? Right. Would— could you, do you think you'd mind being my vice captain?"

Akaashi was so busy trying to follow the twists and turns of that sentence that he almost missed the end of it.

"What?" He went over it again in his head. "I'm just a first-year."

"Almost a second-year, Coach said it's fine if you agree to do it, so do you want to?"

"Shouldn't it be..." _someone with more experience on the court?_ Nonaka's words come back to him.

"If you're vice captain it'll be really good because you're really smart and you can keep track of stuff like when the tournaments are and I'll do the stuff you don't like, like talking to people and yelling."

"Is that what you think captains do? Keep track of stuff, talk to people, and yell?" To be fair, from Bokuto's perspective that is probably what Hata and Mitsui's responsibilities seemed to comprise.

"And boost the team's morale! I'm good at that." He grins at Akaashi, and his smile is dazzling. "So? What do you say?"

 _Is this really okay? Is it fair to say yes?_ He doesn't want something he hasn't earned, but he considers the other second-years and sees the logic behind the choice. Hata never had the patience for Bokuto, but Nonaka doesn't have the conviction. In practice with Bokuto he loses composure easily. Akaashi has never wanted to say it out loud, but the more he practices tossing to the second-years, the further he surpasses the other setter.

Bokuto is looking at him with equal parts excitement and apprehension, and Akaashi doesn't quite trust his voice. He nods once.

"Really? You'll do it?"

Akaashi nods again.

"Yes! We're gonna make such a great team! Next year's gonna be awesome! High five! Now, let's practice!"


	2. Bokuto (feat. Konoha)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Bokuto faces his own growing feelings for volleyball (and Akaashi).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience! Here is the second half of the story.

Bokuto is even more excited than usual for practice, and he's thrilled when coach announces three-on-three practice sets. He and Akaashi have been working hard on the straight spike, and Bokuto has a couple other things up his sleeve as well.

The tallest of the new first years, Onaga, is blocking for the other team but Bokuto hits it straight down the line. No one can touch it.

Amid shouts of _Bokuto, nice one!_ he high-fives Akaashi and gets into position for the next attack. Washio serves and Saru sends it back, and when the ball comes to Akaashi, Bokuto knows there are two attackers the setter could toss to, but he's ready and he knows Akaashi can tell. He thinks the other team can tell, too, but that's okay, he has something he wants to try.

The ball bounces off the blockers' hands, but at an angle that it comes right back to Bokuto's side of the court. It's not the best angle; Washio has to dive for it, but he sends it back into the air. As Bokuto watches, he catches Akaashi's glance— it's his thinking look. Bokuto grins, and Akaashi nods once, and tosses to Bokuto again. He puts all his power into the spike, and slams it over the net— this time, they aren't ready for him, and Bokuto scores another point.

Bokuto knows his teammates are wondering if he hit it off the block on purpose, so over the course of the match he does it a couple more times. Konoha nearly manages to block it properly the last time, so when it comes time for Bokuto to spike again, he scores the set point with a feint.

After practice, Komi is on him right away— "Where did you learn to do _that?_ "

"I wanted to know what other kinds of cool moves I could do, so I watched a bunch of pro matches online last night!"

"Somehow I get the feeling you literally just searched 'cool volleyball moves'," Konoha says.

"So what if I did? I won, didn't I?"

Akaashi doesn't say anything at first, but he doesn't often speak up in front of the whole group, unless he has something really important to say. Bokuto isn't surprised that he waits until their extra practice to bring it up.

"It's good to expand your arsenal," Akaashi tells him, later. Bokuto glows with pride. He loves getting praise from Akaashi; it's kinda rare and utterly genuine, so it's better than hearing it from anyone else. "How late did you stay up, though?"

"Ahhh, you noticed? I had plenty of coffee this morning so I'm not really that tired..."

"Coffee isn't a sleep substitute. We'll only do a few spikes today, I think."

"Akaashi!"

 

"This year we get to play at Interhigh with Akaashi! Aren't you guys excited?"

Konoha sighs. "For the last time, yes, we're all thrilled to have Akaashi as our main setter for this tournament. You can stop asking now."

Bokuto spares only a second to wonder if he's been talking about Akaashi too much; then the gymnasium is in view and any trivial concerns are overtaken by anticipation for the upcoming match. Three games lie between them and a rematch with the team that beat them at nationals last year. Three games, and then Bokuto has his chance to redeem himself as the team's ace.

Coach says his straight spike is really coming together, and Akaashi agrees, so it's probably true. A year ago it was nothing special, but now it's practically untouchable for blockers. _Just keep your cool, and they won't know what hit them,_ Akaashi told him. Well, easier said than done. His energy right now is so high it's almost tangible, but he knows how quickly things can turn around. Even now, when he feels like he should have grown out of such childish moods, he still feels terribly fragile.

"Bokuto-san." He doesn't know how long he's been standing at the entrance to the gymnasium or how long Akaashi has been beside him, watching his thoughts spiral. "We've all worked hard to get here. Trust the team, and trust yourself, okay?"

He takes a deep breath, then smiles. "Of course! And I trust you, too."

Akaashi rolls his eyes— it was a silly thing to say, after all; Akaashi is part of the team— and walks past Bokuto through the doors.

The atmosphere of the tournament seizes him right away, and carries him through the first match and all the way to the first set point of the second match. A blur of spikes and cheers and high-fiving Akaashi. Playing this long wears him out— not his stamina, which could easily handle another three or four sets, but his accuracy. It's his serve and it goes straight to the libero for a clean receive. He winces, the bubble of his positive attitude wavering, but his teammates have it covered, with Onaga in perfect position to knock down the opponents' spike. The set goes to Fukurodani and Akaashi's slight smile is enough to help Bokuto hold onto his good mood for the rest of the day.

("Akaashi's not really big on celebrating," he observes to Konoha, realizing once again that Akaashi has run off somewhere right after the match.

"Maybe he just doesn't like you sweating all over him," Konoha suggests.

"Huh?")

The next day, the third round goes just about as smoothly, and they begin their revenge match on a six-set winning streak. The opposing team has the same record, but Bokuto doesn't feel nervous at all. He hasn't had a single spike blocked during this tournament. _They won't know what hit them._

He recognizes the guy across the net from last year, one of the same middle blockers. Of course they've heard by now that Bokuto doesn't just do cross spikes, but the look on the guy's face is priceless when he realizes just what sort of straight spike he has to try to guard against.

And even that is nothing to the feeling of jumping and knowing Akaashi's toss will come to him, of hitting it at full power knowing the course is perfect, of hearing it hit the court and knowing that he just scored the winning point. Akaashi is running towards him and Akaashi is _yelling, Akaashi_ is, along with the whole team because they all know what this match means to him.

In that moment, all he can think is to scream in Akaashi’s ear, _When's our next match?_ "

Akaashi, face buried in Bokuto's shoulder, arms locked around his neck, hollers back, " _Next weekend!_ "

 _I really like volleyball,_ Bokuto thinks. It takes him a while to realize this is the first time he's seriously thought something like that.

 

School is fine, but he's been so fixated on volleyball lately, he gets distracted even more easily than usual. He spaces out for most of fourth period thinking about the next match, and he has some ideas he kinda wants to talk to Akaashi about.

"I wonder where Akaashi eats lunch..." he says aloud as he and Konoha lounge outside in the shade of a big tree.

"Oh my god," Konoha says. He sounds annoyed, although Bokuto can't imagine why.

"What?"

"I get that you're in love with him or whatever, but can we talk about something other than Akaashi for once?"

"What?"

"What?"

"Why did you— say— I'm not... in love with Akaashi..."

"It was a joke." Konoha eyes him apprehensively.

Bokuto is quiet for a moment, because his brain is still stumbling over Konoha's words. He's not— he's not, right? It was a joke, ha ha, very funny, because Bokuto brings up Akaashi's name for no reason because he stays late after practice almost every night just the two of them, it's hilarious. He stays late because he likes volleyball, but no, that's a recent development. All these months he's been staying late because he likes _Akaashi,_ he talks about Akaashi and says his name because— he likes the sound of it—

"It was a joke, okay, chill, I don't mind if you talk about him sometimes, it's just—"

Akaashi is his friend, right, his really cool friend whose smile makes him feel all warm, and he has a nice mouth, doesn't he...

"Bokuto no, I was just joking—"

Bokuto is only half-listening, instead taking to muttering _oh my god_ over and over because how did he not notice, or rather, he noticed, but he never thought anything of it until now. Sure, Akaashi is hot, sure, Akaashi is like his favorite person, how did he never connect the dots until someone else did it for him? What kind of idiot is he?

"Bokuto." Konoha has a hand on his shoulder, and the courtyard comes into focus again.

"Yes, hi, I'm here, I'm okay—"

"Breathe."

"Right."

Bokuto breathes in, out, three, four, five, six... "I've never been in love before. How do you know if you're in love?"

"How the hell should I know? I was joking, okay, I'm so sorry—"

"Yeah, hah, maybe I'm just blowing this out of proportion, right? I mean, Akaashi is, like, my best friend, he's the best, but that doesn't mean I'm _in love with him_ , right???"

It's totally normal to be able to tell when your friends are attractive, that's all...

 

"You told him _what?_ " Saru demands.

"For the millionth time, I was _joking,_ " replies Konoha.

Washio asks, "Is he okay?"

"Akaashi..." mumbles Bokuto.

They're in the club room, after school, before practice. Saru wasn't thrilled to hear what had upset Bokuto, and to Bokuto's further dismay, he wasn't surprised.

Saru tells Konoha, "You can't just joke about these things. Remember how emo he got when Someha-san dumped him first year?"

"It was even worse third year of junior high," Washio adds, "when he got turned down on Valentine's Day."

"It was a joke," Konoha insists, "and he's fine."

Bokuto is lying on his back on one of the club room benches, covering his face with one arm. Everyone is all riled up, and it's all his fault.

"I'm so pathetic," he says. "Don't look at me."

Panicked whispers follow this pronouncement. Then Bokuto hears the door open. He uncovers his eyes and tilts his head to see who it is, albeit upside-down. It's Akaashi, because of course it is.

"...Hi?" he says, looking confused. Bokuto is probably not the only one staring. Akaashi's eyes fall on Bokuto, who realizes he must look ridiculous. "Bokuto-san, are you alright?"

Bokuto tries to respond but no words come out, just an extremely un-manly squeak.

Konoha rushes forward and ushers Akaashi out of the room. "Everything is fine! Everyone is perfectly fine, we are just having a private meeting right now, no underclassmen allowed, goodbye!" Konoha shuts the door in Akaashi's face, and indignation on his friend's behalf galvanizes Bokuto to try to sit up.

"Why did you do that, I wanted to see Akaashi!"

"Are you sure about that?" Saru asks dryly.

Bokuto considers this, and sinks back down onto the bench.

"This is not my fault," Konoha says immediately.

"It kinda is," says Washio.

"Don't blame Konoha," Bokuto says, staring up that the ceiling. "It's my fault. I'm the worst."

The door opens again. Bokuto finds he doesn't have the energy to look around this time, and resigns himself to his fate of Akaashi realizing what a complete loser he is.

But it's just Komi. "Akaashi-kun said you guys were being weird in here. What's up?"

"Komi..." Bokuto says, weakly reaching out a hand to his friend, "I'm in love with Akaashi." It's been at least five minutes since he last said it out loud, and it seems important somehow to keep repeating it.

"Oh," replies Komi, taking his hand and patting it gently, "is that all?"

"You _knew?_ " says Konoha.

"I thought he might be."

"I didn't know!" Bokuto exclaims, throwing his free arm across his face again. "I haven't been subtle at all! Saru wasn't surprised either! Everyone probably knows! Akaashi probably knows, and if Akaashi knows, then the only reason he hasn't said anything is he doesn't like me back! He probably secretly hates me. I can never speak to him again."

"Come on, captain," Washio says, "that would be really impractical."

There's a knock at the door, and they hear Akaashi's muffled voice from outside. "We can't start practice without the captain and half the team."

 _Right,_ Bokuto thinks, looking at the door. _If Akaashi really hated me, he wouldn't want to play volleyball together, would he?_ He swiftly gets to his feet, marches over to the door, and pulls it open.

"I want to play volleyball," he tells Akaashi.

"...Okay. You're still wearing your school uniform, though."

Bokuto looks down at his clothes. Oops. Panicking, he slams the door on Akaashi. Realizing what he just did, he falls to his knees, head in his hands.

"This should be fun," Konoha remarks.

 

"My favorite thing about Akaashi is definitely his eyes," Bokuto says. He and Konoha are walking to school on a rare clear day in June, two weeks since Bokuto's epiphany, and as far as Konoha is concerned, it has not been fun.

"Really?" Konoha says. "Becuase I could have sworn that yesterday it was his shoulders."

"You're making fun of me," complains Bokuto.

"Who, me? Never."

Bokuto sighs. It is one hell of a sigh. "I just... think he's really great."

"Yes, I know. You've mentioned."

"I really appreciate you putting up with me through all this."

Konoha hates when he does that. Reminders of how self-aware Bokuto actually is strike deep and make Konoha feel guilty for being short with him.

"Have you considered telling him?" He has avoided asking this question because Bokuto seems so thoroughly convinced that his feelings are unrequited but Konoha... is not so certain. Anyone who would willingly stay at practice long enough to satisfy Bokuto's stamina either really hates themselves or really loves Bokuto.

"Nooooooo," Bokuto says, "no. I can't do that."

"You don't think it's worth a try?"

"What if he says no?" Bokuto whines. "What if he doesn't want to be friends anymore?"

"Do you seriously think that's going to happen? This is Akaashi we're talking about. Your vice captain." The guy who is about fifty times better at talking you around than I am. "He knows you care about him," Konoha says slowly, because he's putting to together his argument at the same time as saying it. "That's not a secret. So, like... if you tell him, even if he doesn't like, like you like that, I don't think he's gonna hate you."

He realizes Bokuto is staring at him. "What?"

Awed, he says, "Wow, you're seriously good at everything, Konoha, even feelings stuff."

"Shut up. Anyway, if you tell _him_ how much you like him, then you can stop telling _me._ "

After a long pause, Bokuto finally says, "Okay."

"Okay?"

"I'm gonna tell him."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I'm gonna go tell him right now. See you later!" When they reach the school gates, Bokuto dashes ahead, leaving Konoha wondering what the hell he just did.

 

Bokuto doesn't wind up telling him right away. He can't find Akaashi before school, and by midday, he's worked himself into a panic again and he spends his lunch break in the classroom with Nonaka, trying to calm down. Before practice is no good, because if it doesn't go well, he'll be off all evening, so it'll have to be after practice.

Even so, he isn't in his best form during practice, getting distracted easily and missing more spikes and serves than usual. It doesn't even bother him as much as it normally does, because his mind keeps going back to Akaashi. _I'm going to tell him,_ he thinks. What would be the best way? No, this is Akaashi, straightforward is the only way.

"Bokuto-san, look out!"

Hearing Akaashi's voice, he turns, so the ball hits him in the side of the head rather than the face. People have told him he has a hard head; getting hit still kind of hurts.

The first year who served the ball is panicked and apologetic, but Bokuto assures everyone he's fine, and Akaashi assurs everyone it was Bokuto's own fault for not paying attention, and practice resumes.

Practice ends without any more incidents. The rest of the team is leaving, and Akaashi asks, "Bokuto-san, do you want to practice some more spikes today?"

"No," he says, because all he can think about is confessing his feelings. Then the non-Akaashi-obsessed part of his brain catches up. "I mean yes! Yes."

Konoha passes him on the way out of the gym. He claps Bokuto on the shoulder and says, "Good luck."

This exchange doesn't escape Akaashi's notice, but he just watches, not saying anything.

The first time Akaashi tosses, Bokuto spikes it too hard.

"Ah, home run! Sorry, Akaashi."

"Let's try again."

Akaashi keeps tossing and Bokuto keeps spiking, and he knows he's missing more than he usually does. He thinks if he asked, Akaashi could probably tell him the statistics, but he doesn't want to know. _I'll get the next one,_ he keeps promising himself. _When I get the next one, then I'll tell him._

As always, Akaashi starts to get tired before Bokuto. "This is the last one for tonight, okay?" he says.

Bokuto nods, and gets ready. _I'm gonna get this one right, I'm gonna get this one—_

It slams onto the court on the other side of the net, just inside the line.

"Yes!"

Akaashi nods, smiling slightly. Bokuto jumps in the air, celebrating his victory while Akaashi puts away the volleyballs, until he realizes Akaashi is on his way out of the gym.

"A- _kaa_ -shi, wait, I need to talk to you!"

Akaashi stops and turns around. Bokuto jogs over to catch up with him. And this is it, the moment has come.

Akaashi looks at him expectantly. "Yes?"

With a deep breath, Bokuto says, "Ireallylikeyouwillyougooutwithme!"

"...What?"

He told himself he wouldn't panic, whatever the response was, and yet— "—or not, I'm sorry, this is so sudden, you can say no, of course, we're friends and I like being friends so that's fine too—"

"Bokuto-san, stop."

Bokuto stops, mostly because Akaashi is holding his wrists. Bokuto stares at Akaashi's hands where they're touching his skin, then looks up at Akaashi's face, which is very close. _His eyes are really intense,_ Bokuto thinks, and he can feel himself blushing.

"You're speaking too fast. Please ask me again so I can be sure I understood you correctly."

Akaashi looks incredibly serious, like the way he gets before a critical point in a match, and Bokuto thinks there's no way he doesn't know what Bokuto just asked, but he does as Akaashi says anyway.

"I," he says slowly, forcing himself to breathe between each word because otherwise he might forget entirely, "Really. Like. You. Will. You. Go. Out. With—"

"Yes," Akaashi says, just as Bokuto finishes—

"Me. Wait, what?"

"I said yes."

"Yes?"

" _Yes._ "

And it hits Bokuto that he doesn't just look serious, he looks nervous, and maybe excited, and he realizes that Akaashi likes him, he likes Bokuto the way Bokuto likes him. He throws his arms around Akaashi and lifts him up, spinning him around like they're celebrating a win. It startles a laugh out of Akaashi.

Bokuto sets him down and throws his fists in the air. "Yes!" he shouts to the empty gym. Akaashi laughs.

"Don't laugh at me," Bokuto exclaims, which only makes Akaashi laugh harder. "No, wait, I changed my mind. You can laugh at me. You should laugh more, it's so cute! It's cute when you blush, too." Bokuto has never seen him blush like that before— he's hardly ever even seen him blush. Only, like, when Bokuto compliments his plays he sometimes turns a little pink... Oh...

Turning an even brighter shade of red, Akaashi turns to the door. "Okay, time to go home."

"We should go get dinner! It'll be our first date. Can we get yakiniku?"

"All right."

They've made it only a few steps outside when Bokuto stops short.

"Wait wait wait, I totally forgot."

"Forgot what?"

"Can I kiss you?"

Akaashi's eyes go wide, and he opens his mouth and closes it again without saying anything.

"Or not? We don't have to rush—mmmfh." His freakout gets cut short by Akaashi grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him.

After a moment Akaashi pulls back, still holding Bokuto's face.

"That was nice," Bokuto remarks, a little out of breath.

Akaashi looks away, having once again turned pink. "Let's go eat."

 

At the restaurant, Bokuto alternates stuffing his face with grilled pork and telling Akaashi how he spent the past two weeks.

"So then Konoha said I should just tell you and I figured he was right and now here we are."

"Here we are," Akaashi agrees. Bokuto's not sure what he makes of the story because he's always so hard to read, but it's Akaashi, so at least he didn't laugh at him for being so dumb.

"So..." He shifts back and forth in his seat. He wants to know, but does he have the nerve to ask? "What about you?"

"Since when— how— I mean. When did you know you liked me?"

"Oh, that." Akaashi tilts his head to one side, thinking before he answers. "I realized it months ago. You're pretty hot, you know."

Bokuto nearly chokes on his tea, sputtering. "A- _kaa_ -shi!"

Smirking, Akaashi continues. "I've liked you for ages, but I never knew if you liked me back. That was a relief. I was worried I was making an idiot of myself."

"Akaashi, don't be silly, you're like the smartest person I know." Bokuto narrows his eyes, thinking.

"What?"

"Since you're my boyfriend... can I call you Keiji?"

It's Akaashi's turn to not-quite-choke on his tea. He takes a moment to compose himself, then answers, "I suppose so... Koutarou."

Bokuto hides his face, which he's sure has gone bright red, behind his hands.

"Maybe just in private," Akaashi muses.

**Author's Note:**

> Title from ["Flaws" by Bastille](https://youtu.be/1E36WU9Wzf4).
> 
> I feel I should mention that I no longer remember if the description of Bokuto's preferred toss (high and close to the net) originated in canon or fanon.


End file.
